


Choose Your Own Rickventure

by Squikkums



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, MoS, Morty takes care of Rick, Rick helps too, Sick Fic, angst week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squikkums/pseuds/Squikkums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty always considered himself just okay at following directions, whether he was cooking a microwavable pizza or on an adventure with Rick he was never more than average. But when Rick falls ill, Morty is the only one who can save him. Lucky for both of them Rick is such a micromanager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choose Your Own Rickventure

**Author's Note:**

> My co-author for this fic is the magnificent [isbutteryficslove](http://isbutteryficslove.tumblr.com/), who you should definitely check out. And if you'd like to find me on tumblr, I'm [squikkums](http://squikkums.tumblr.com/) there too.

Morty knocked softly on his grandfather's bedroom door, calling through the cheap wood to the man inside. "Rick y-you up?" He steadied the tray of food in his hands and then took a deep breath and opened the door without waiting for a reply, not really expecting one anyway. "Mom wanted me to bring you some soup!”

Rick groaned and raised a shaking hand to cover his eyes from the overly bright light coming from the hall, shifting around on the camp bed to face the rest of the room. "M-morty? What are you talking about Morty, who would be up at this hour anyway? Go away."

“Oh um, sorry Rick but it's like 1:30 in the afternoon and.." Morty trailed off as he looked at Rick's sweaty, pale face.

"Ugghh.. s-shut the -urp- shut the door Morty, Christ." Rick ran a trembling hand through his hair and awkwardly pushed himself up on an elbow, reaching for the flask on his bedside table with the other and unscrewing it one handed in a practiced motion. "What, Morty, what are you looking at?" Rick took a long swallow from his flask, emptying it.

"We- me, mom and Summer th- thought you looked- looked a little sick." Morty stammered coming in and shutting the door behind him. "I also brought you some water, you know if you wanted something else to drink." The boy tried, hoping the man would put down the flask.

Rick snorted and shook his head. "I'm not sick you nosy little bastard, I'm h-hungover. Grab grandpa the bottle on the table over there M-morty and I'll take care of it." Rick tried to push himself into sitting up but ended up slipping back down to his half reclined position in bed, sheet pooling around his waist.

Morty sat the tray on the table and grabbed the bottle "H-here you go, Rick." He said as nicely as he could to his mean, shirtless grandfather.

The bottle was snatched out of Morty's hand; Rick tossed the flask to the side so that he could unscrew the lid and took a long swallow of the bitter liquid inside before sealing it back up and letting the bottle slip to his side like a forgotten lover. He groaned and rubbed a hand down his face miserably; it ached worse than it had last night, and there was a telltale weakness spreading throughout his body. He didn't think he'd be able to stand, and didn't want to try and potentially fail with Morty so close by; the kid worried too damn much.

“D-do you need anything else, grandpa?" Morty wasn't sure why he called him that, it just slipped out. Hopefully Rick wouldn't mind.

The scientist paused, looking over at Morty.  _ Huh, he must look more pathetic than he'd thought. The kid was being way too accommodating.  _

"I-if I did why wouldn't I just get it myself, Mo- _ URRH- _ rty?" Rick swung his legs over the side of the cot and pushed himself roughly to his feet despite his misgivings. One hand went, again, to his head while the other hitched his loose cotton sleep pants higher up on his bony hips as he stumbled to keep his footing, managing to stay standing mostly through sheer force of will.

The teen watched Rick stand on shaky legs but nodded anyway and turned to leave. "Okay Rick."

But sheer will was obviously inadequate for keeping Rick vertical. He felt his legs give out and fell heavily to his hands and knees next to the bed.

“Oh god, Rick!" Morty immediately rushed to his side "Should I get- call someone?" Morty didn't think he could pick him up. "H-hold on I'll get my dad."

"Fuck no, Morty, you won't get J- _ urp _ -erry, y-you little shit." Rick would rather drink acid than let Jerry see him like this, the sniveling little jerk would never let him live it down. "Just.. urgh.. just gimme a hand." Rick waved imperiously for Morty to help him up.

Morty was relieved to have Rick tell him what to do. "Right! Right." He knelt down and let Rick swing an arm around his shoulders.

Rick heaved himself to his feet with Morty's help, leaning heavily on the boy as he was gently eased to sit on the edge of his bed. The pervasive weakness in his limbs was quickly progressing to an aching burn, and Rick reluctantly remembered similar symptoms afflicting the few still-living passengers on the ship blasting the distress beacon he'd picked up on two days ago. He'd thought the crew was long past contagious when he'd boarded, but apparently not.

Morty looked at him with worry in his eyes. "Are y-you sure you're just hungover? Cause I've never seen you do that b-before, Rick."

“Trust me Morty, grandpa is all kinds of hung." Rick quipped without thought. 

It was actually rather difficult to think at all. Rick was feeling weaker and sicker by the minute, and he realized, startled, that if Morty hadn't come in and woken him up he may not have woken up ever again.  _ This was serious.. he needed to think, dammit! _ Those passengers had been on that ship for three full days before he caught their signal, and Rick wasn't exactly young enough or healthy enough to pull through something like this without help. He needed to get to his lab and run samples of his blood and prep the emergency disease kit for when it was processed. He needed.. ugh.. he needed..

"Hehe sure." Morty interrupted Rick's thoughts with a nervous laugh. "Well I'll- I'll just leave the soup here for you." He backed up to the door like he wanted to leave but was afraid Rick might disappear if he lost sight of him.

Rick felt himself starting to shiver, each twitching movement sending a sharp burning pain arcing through his joints. He clenched his teeth and threw his head back against the flat pillow, waiting for the wave of pain to recede and remembering with sickening clarity how the passengers of the ship had done the same.  _ Why hadn't he paid more attention to them, solved the puzzle then instead of getting stuck with it now? _ He barely heard what Morty said, so focused on the pain and his self-recriminations.

The door squeaked as Morty debated on if it was okay to leave or not. "I'll- I 'll leave this open, just call if you need anything.” But before Morty could actually step through the door Rick started to cough loudly, so much so that it sounded like he was literally coughing up a lung. Phlegm dripped from the poor man's lips and the sight caused Morty to stop in the doorway "On second thought, let's call a doctor, Rick."

The elder roused himself with an over abundance of effort and dragged himself partially up again to face Morty. "What's a doctor supposed to do about an alien disease Morty?" He rubbed a hand over his face again, forgetting all about his hangover excuse as he thought out loud. "Earth doctors would barely have time to run tests.." He trailed off into his own thoughts again.

“Oh um how about an alien doctor then?" Morty said trying to stay calm despite Rick's frightening words.

"Too rare, I'd be arrested for sure if I went in with this so soon after that cruiser was raided." Rick's voice was getting softer and more indistinct; he lay back and closed his eyes, exhausted from that minimal effort.

He was dragged from his insouciance by the sound of Morty hyperventilating. "Then then w-what can- should we do?"

Rick knew he wasn't going to stay conscious for much longer, he’d have to fall back on one of his last resorts. "Jesus, I can't believe I'm doing this.. Bring me my coat, Morty."

Morty scrambled to obey and retrieve Rick's discarded lab coat for him, passing it over, quick and fumbling, and watching Rick with obvious anxiety.

Rick dug through the pockets for a beat up wallet and then grabbed Morty by the collar, dragging him down close to his face. The genius could feel himself getting weaker and he didn't think he would stay conscious for much longer. He needed Morty to take this seriously. 

"Morty, there's an  _ 'in case of emergency _ ' card in here with your name on it. Do what it says and do it fast. I know what this is, and I've only got another 12 hours guaranteed before this disease kills me. I might have been contagious, so make enough for Beth and Summer as well as you and me, Morty, Jerry too I guess. I'm about to pass out; turn me on my side when I do so I don't choke on my own vomit. Any questions?" Rick's voice was clipped, sharp and unemotional as he rattled off his instructions.

“What, Rick? You want me to do to make an antidote.. by myself?!"

“We don't have time for you to doubt yourself M-morty, the card has directions. I'll be helping you.. Sort of. You j-just need t-t-t-to do what I say like you always.. like usual and I.. it will be fine." Rick patted Morty on the cheek as he spoke, but his eyes were drifting shut again and his voice was fading.

Morty rubbed his sweaty palms together, somewhat reassured by what Rick said. "Just follow the directions? Yeah I can do that.. I hope."

Rick didn't know if he was going to wake up again, and now that he'd done everything he could his fear was starting to overwhelm him. But more than that, he didn't want to scare Morty, and he didn't want him beating himself up if he failed. 

With the last of his strength Rick dragged Morty back down, pressing a shaky kiss onto his forehead. "You're a good kid, Morty. No matter what happens don't forget that." 

His grip on Morty's shirt loosened and he rested his head down again.  _ Were those his last words? Not bad, not even close. And here he was, not even in a cage. He'd miss this though.. He'd miss Morty. _

Morty didn't like this. Rick was being too nice, this was serious. He reached out with trembling hands to turn his grandfather into his side and propped him up that way so that he couldn't roll onto his back.

“If I- you know, if I do forget that then you can just remind me, Rick." He squeaked out, giving Rick’s shoulder a little squeeze. But there was no response from Rick. His breathing was harsh, shallow and slow, skin clammy with sweat and unnaturally pale. His hand slid down Morty's chest and fell, limp, to his side.

Morty pressed a small kiss to Rick's forehead, knowing that Rick couldn't tease him for it, then ran off down to the garage.

The card he was holding had Rick's messy scrawl all across it. Sprinkled liberally with insults, it told him how to get onto the closest thing to a computer for more detailed directions, and exactly how to retrieve those directions from a federation starship, a prisoner transport, drunk tank, hospital, powered-down spacecraft, federation planet, colony planet, Rick's ship, and a host of others. Scrawled at the bottom was a short, rude message with the location Morty needed. 

_ Just turn the fucker on in the garage Morty, the password is the last place you threw up you little pussy. _

Morty sat down at Rick's old computer and thought about how he’d played Peter Pan in the last school play and had gotten really motion sick from the flying scene. He'd thrown up right on top of "Windy's" a.k.a. Jessica's head. His stomach twisted at the mortifying memory as he typed in  _ school play _ . His jerk of a grandpa had given him a standing ovation for that one.

The computer booted up decently fast, and Morty immediately found himself looking at a background photo of him in his costume, close up, hoisted in the air and as green as his leotard, looking miserable with vomit dripping from his lips. The icons and folders were haphazardly scattered, with no order to them. Morty started to scan through them for one labeled  _ R32c76b _ , like the card in his hand said.

Trying to remember that Rick needed his help and that it’d be best to hurry, Morty found and clicked on what he hoped was the right folder. It was full of video files, the first named  _ 'watch me' _ and the rest numbered, starting at 1 and going well past 100. 

_ When did Rick even get the time to do all this? _ Morty shook his head and pushed the thought aside. He didn't have time to wonder about what Rick did when he wasn't around. He clicked on the video labeled  _ watch me _ .

Rick appeared on the screen and let out a truly impressive belch before he spoke. "Hey, Morty. This is gonna be just like one of those idiot Choose Your own Adventure books you think I don't know you still read." The Rick on the screen scratched absentmindedly at his stomach as he spoke, and then turned away from the camera to begin tinkering with something on his desk as he continued to speak. "If I'm missing and you need to get in contact with Birdperson or someone go to 1, if you got your idiot self lost and I'm not there to help you get home go to 2, if another Rick showed up and you don't know if you should listen to him go to 3, if I'm there but there's something wrong with me go to 4..."

Before Rick could even finish what he was saying Morty was already going to the fourth video. If he had more time he would've liked to explore this; who knew Rick thought so far ahead?

The Rick in this video was half way through stripping out of his lab coat with a heavy lead lined apron resting on the desk in front of him and a glowing case to the side. He tossed his lab coat aside and pulled on the apron as he spoke. "If I've taken some kind of drug and I've overdosed or some shit go to 40, if I caught some unknown disease and was too stupid to do something about it in time go to 41, if I'm missing a limb or something else important and you need to put it back on or in or whatever go to 42.."

Hearing all the stuff that could go wrong made Morty incredibly nervous, so much so that he accidentally clicked 42.

This video’s Rick wasn't doing anything else. He was slouched on a stool, lab coat off with the sleeves of his blue sweater rolled up past his forearms. He was resting one elbow on his knees, supporting his head and the other was hanging between his spread legs. "Fuck me, I hope it wasn't my dick. Okay Morty, first you need to stabilise me. There's a drawer right here-" Rick tapped a drawer behind him. "In it is a purple syringe with the label  _ 5πfr66A  _ on it. Inject it into my hip, that should freeze the blood loss or organ loss or whatever it is. Next take whatever of mine got detached and inject it with the same thing. Go now and do that and then come back and we'll figure out what's gone and how to put it back. Pause the video Morty."

"Oh shit, no no no." Morty frantically clicked back, not wanting to hear anymore about that. Once he was finally at the right video he breathed a sigh of relief.

This Rick was laying on the desk with his head hanging over the edge. "Disease, eh? Okay well then first things first. If you feel sick, Morty, go to 78 and I'll walk you through getting yourself to a hospital. You'll need to decide whether to put me into stasis or drag me along. If you aren't sure you should freeze me. Grandpa doesn't like the government Morty, it's a last resort to take me, defenceless, anywhere near them." Rick paused and looked over at the camera. "If you're still watching then it's just me that's sick. You'll still be manufacturing enough of an antidote for everyone in the house just in case. If it's spread further than that I want you to go to the outside wall of the garage and key in your birthday on the panel there to lock down the house. It won't open for anyone but you and me then, and you need to say 'Rick has a big dick' as y-you type in your birthday backwards to unlock it..."

Morty rolled his eyes at that last part. He didn't feel sick but he wondered if maybe he should lock down the house just case; he didn't want to infect anybody else.

On the video, Rick continued. "Alright, now I assume you've locked down the house if you think the disease is spreading or that it’s from out there and you don't feel safe leaving things unprotected. The first step of dealing with this is finding out what's wrong with me. To do that you're going to get a blood sample from me with the syringe in this drawer-" Rick kicked at the second drawer from the top on the left side of the desk. "It's the one with the green handle and the yellow cap on the needle. You're going to draw some blood and put the sample in this machine-" The foot kicked at a machine on the desk, "-and get the results. Go do that M-morty, and if you don't know how to draw blood you need to Google that shit, I can't do everything for you. Pause the video."

Morty decided that now was not the time to take unnecessary precautions. Fixing Rick was his top priority. The brunet quickly paused the video, got the syringe and, after a quick web search, headed back upstairs to get some of Rick's blood. Once in his grandfather's room he was reminded of how grave the situation was when he was greeted by a pale Rick breathing very shallowly. Reminding himself not to think about the word grave, Morty got a hold Rick's arm and started the search for a vein. Rick's skin felt cold and clammy; his pulse frighteningly fast and obvious where Morty held his wrist.

“Don't worry n-now Rick, I've got this." Morty put some pressure on Rick's wrist until a little blue vein popped up, which he immediately missed with the needle. "Sorry, sorry.. uh." 

He got it on his third try, not that Rick seemed to mind. Blood filled the syringe in Morty's hand, and a shiver ran through Rick's body as the needle was pulled out, but he didn't wake. Morty bit his lip to stifle a whine of sympathy pain trying to escape him. 

"I- I'll be right back." He said to Rick's body, patting his arm before scrambling back out of the room. 

Back in the garage, Morty found the device Rick had showed him the video and then unpaused the video.

Rick was there again, smirking at the screen. "S-so how many times did you miss you little shit?" He jumped off the desk and walked over to the machine. "I'm going to do this slow, and you follow along Morty. I'm using a sample of my own blood when I'm healthy right now and coding it in, so before we start type RickRecentBaseline, all one word, into the screen on the front and confirm it so you'll have something to compare your sample to." Rick waited for a moment and then, at half speed, walked Morty through using the machine.

Morty backed the video up and listened to that part again to make sure he was typing it in right. As he typed the name into the system different filenames appeared below, narrowing down until 'RickRecentBaseline' was the only option left. Morty confirmed it like Rick had said. 

In the video Rick took the blood sample and put it inside a little tray on machine, so Morty did the same. As Rick's sample was placed a green button lit up, and the same happened for Morty as well. Rick pushed the button and the sample slid into the machine. And once again the same thing happened for Morty, who watched in fascination as the blood spun around at lightning speed.

“Okay, now what?" He caught himself asking the question out loud like Rick could hear him.

The Rick on screen watched his sample finish and the light on the machine shut off. He looked over at the screen and quirked an eyebrow at Morty. "Okay Morty, the results are in the system now, so come back over here and open the notification in the bottom corner." Rick gestured to the area of the screen Morty should look at.

Morty did as he was told, feeling slightly like a trained helper monkey.

"Morty, next we need to interpret the results. Now, is there a disease listed at the top of the results Morty? If there is your job just got a lot easier." Rick leaned back against the desk behind him as he spoke.

_ Oh hallelujah, there was! _ Morty clicked it and finally let himself relax a little.

"If you don't have a disease listed you'll need to go to 41a so I can walk you through what to do now, but don't worry Morty, you can do it." Rick jumped up to sit on the desk and grabbed a screwdriver and a half assembled device from beside him, fiddling while he talked. He paused his speech for a long second and then continued. "Oh thank fuck you're still here. There's a real chance that everything will be fine Morty."

Morty laughed nervously at Rick's fake positivity earlier and listened intently for more instructions.  _ If I have to be a monkey I'll at least be a good one. _ Morty thought. 

"Click on the disease and you'll get an info sheet on the cure. If I have it, it will be in the locked blue locker against the wall." Rick gestured with his chin as he worked. "The combination is 14-15-9-26-5-35 and the label will look like what's on the top of the info sheet. Pause and go check Morty."

The boy looked at the pop up info sheet on the screen. It said the cure for this was a heated up version of  _ simple 252 _ . Morty got a pen and wrote that down on his hand and then headed over to open up the locker. Seems today was his lucky day; he saw a vial of blue liquid labeled 252, and rushed back to play the video again.

"41b if it's not there Morty, but synthesising a cure isn't impossible, so don't even trip dawg. If it is we're both lucky sons of bitches. Same drawer as the syringe should have another. Load up the needle with the correct dosage for a preventative cure and give it to yourself. Google it again if you need to and don't miss the vein this time."

According to the label on the vile it didn't take much to get rid of this infection. Morty was relieved that there was more than enough to care for everybody in the house and then some. It needed to be heated up and since Morty wasn't comfortable putting some strange blue liquid in the microwave he located a Bunsen burner that he’d seen Rick use once. 

The video played on in the background as Morty worked. "Once you've given yourself the preventative cure grab another syringe and give me the full dose. The sheet should also list anything you need to do or watch for with whatever it is I managed to infect myself with. If I'm doing really badly you can go to 4a for some things to do to keep me living for a short period of time. Otherwise, that's it. You're a good kid Morty, you're my little helper." Rick took a long pull from his flask. "Go to the folder called  _ gTz43f  _ on the desktop if you start freaking out when you're just waiting around Morty, but if you tell anyone about what you see there my background is going to be your school's new logo."

Morty vowed to himself never to tell a soul and clicked on _ gTz34f _ while he waited for the strange mixture to come to the right temperature, taking nervous glances at it every few seconds. That is, until what was on screen caught his full attention. It looked like Rick but somewhat younger, centerstage with a guitar in front of a microphone. Aliens all around seem to be cheering for him and screaming in some strange language and it looked like Squanchy and Birdperson were up there too, but it was hard to tell because they were outside of the spotlight that shone down on Rick. And wait, were those tears in Rick’s eyes? Now Morty was really intrigued. 

Rick spoke into the microphone, and the crowd went silent to hear his words. "My daughter gave birth to a son today, this song is for Morty.” Morty blushed and watched more intently as the crowd clapped madly. Rick held up a hand to silence them, and then picked deftly through the first chords of a startlingly familiar song.

Is that _ Cats in the Cradle _ ? Morty thought to himself before Rick started to sing in a low voice, choked with emotion.

“ _ My child arrived just the other day _

_ He came to the world in the usual way _

_ But there were planes to catch and bills to pay _

_ He learned to walk while I was away.. _ " 

The audience was absolutely silent, and the soft croon as Birdperson came in with gentle backup vocals crescendoed the music until Squanchy broke in on the drums for the chorus, Rick's voice rising above the music. 

Morty had never heard it sung quite like this before. The strangely calming backup vocals of Birdperson combined with the interesting gruffness of Rick's voice made the whole song new again to Morty's ears. The flattered young man was just thinking about what a great performer his grandfather was when on-screen, as the chorus wound down and everything got quiet again, Rick let out a choked sound. He played through it, and Squanchy came in with gentle drums to transition the verse into an instrumental while Rick leaned away from the mic to take a few deep breaths and get a hold of himself. 

Morty watched the video play, but realized after a second of being absorbed in Rick's display of affection that he’d almost let the cure his sweet grandfather so desperately needed boil over. He quickly shut the flame off and set to getting the injections ready. Rick's performance played on in the background as Morty finished preparations for the injection for himself and Rick, and set aside three more syringes for the rest of his family for later. Leaving the lovely song playing, Morty opened up another tab on the computer and looked up how to give a shot.

The song came to an end with the three band members singing the last verse in harmony along with a screaming crowd. Rick-on-screen raised his arms and waved to the crowd before pulling the mic close to his face and screaming to the audience as they went wild. "We're the Flesh Curtains motherfuckers! Wooo! I fucking love my grandkids! We're the Flesh Curtains!"

As Morty injected himself he tried to pretend that his misty eyes were because of the pain. Taking a deep breath, he got everything ready to save his grandfather.

The video came to an end and the silence in the garage was startling. Morty had been listening to his grandfather's voice for such a long time; the abrupt transition from screaming crowd to nothingness brought home the fact that Rick, his Rick, was still upstairs and needing him. Morty snatched up the syringe and dashed through the house and up the stairs, then busted through the door. 

"Rick! I did it, you're going to be okay!" It was a good thing Morty had turned Rick on his side earlier because, like Rick said he might, he had indeed thrown up. But Morty didn't care, he knelt down and, like he did on himself, gave Rick the injection.

Rick didn't look any better right away, like Morty had been hoping for. His skin was still clammy and sickly pale; his breathing still harsh and shallow. His eyes looked sunken and his lips were dry and speckled with flecks of bile. Tremors continued to run through his body intermittently.

Morty sighed, he didn't know why he’d thought Rick would be instantly better. 

"W-well I guess I'll just have to take care of you till you wake up." Morty got him a fresh blanket to replace the one he’d thrown up on. Before he tucked him in again Morty also got a warm, wet rag and wiped the sweat from his grandfather’s brow, then the vomit from his face. But he still wasn’t satisfied, and made a trip around the house to grab anything Rick might need, like an ice pack, heating pad, tissues and some other probably-useless things. Once he couldn't think of anything else to do for his grandfather the boy curled up on the little cot next to Rick. Despite his best efforts not to, Morty could feel himself starting to fall asleep; he wrapped his arms tightly around Rick’s still too-hot body as he drifted off.

A few hours later, Rick stirred and let out a groan.  _ Holy shit, what had he taken? _ He felt like death warmed over, and just stayed still for a moment before even attempting to open his eyes, trying to remember what the hell he'd done before he passed out..  _ Oh, right. That damn typhoid Mary of a spacecraft.  _ Rick squinted his eyes open the smallest crack, and then his eyes widened and an embarrassingly silly smile lit his face for a moment before he forced his features into a faintly mocking smirk reflexively.

Morty was sprawled out on his stomach over well more than half of Rick's bed, surrounded by Gatorade and wafer cookies and what looked like half of the bathroom medicine cabinet. Rick was pinned down by the warm weight of Morty’s arm and leg, flung haphazardly across his body. He held his breath and watched carefully, but Morty never stirred; he was deeply asleep. Rick's expression softened and he brought one hand up to gently brush against his grandson's cheek. "You did it, kid." Rick sighed, relaxed and content, with the heat of Morty’s body warming him and Morty’s soft breathing filling his ears.


End file.
